Part Of Your World
by Imogen LeFay
Summary: Little Mermaid inspired AU. Nobody knows how Kurt Hummel ended up as the only survivor of a plane crash. After all, who would believe that an invisible boy had brought him to safety, comforted him and sang to him? Enter Blaine, a strange boy, who seems to have stepped right out of a fairy tale - and is unable to utter a single word. But could he still be that same boy?


_**Summary**__: The Little Mermaid inspired AU. Nobody knows how Kurt Hummel ended up as the only survivor of a plane crash. After all, who would believe that an invisible boy had brought him to safety, comforted him and sang to him? Enter Blaine, a strange, who seems to have stepped right out of a fairy tale - and unfortunately unable to utter a single word. But could he still be that same boy?  
__**Disclaimer**__: I do not own Glee, The Little Mermaid, or the lyrics used, which are from "Part of your world (reprise/final)" from The Little Mermaid and "Not while I'm around" from Sweeney Todd_.

* * *

**Part Of Your World**

"_Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. There is no reason to panic, we are experiencing minor technical difficulties. Our arrival in Columbus might be delayed by a few minutes. Please stay calm, the situation is under control."_

"_I bet we'll crash. They always say don't panic before something goes really wrong."_

"_I think I can smell smoke. Can you smell smoke?"_

"_This looks like a really good moment to start praying."_

"_We will land in a few moments. Please fasten your seat belts, we will arrive in Columbus shortly."_

"_Is it supposed to be this fast?"_

_"We're crashing!"_

"_This is not happening."_

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some difficulties in the landing, please use the oxygen masks coming down in front of you right about-"_

_A screeching sound, and the transmission stops. They're losing height, fast, and it feels like they're falling into a spiral. Kurt thinks he should be feeling horror, but instead, he finds he doesn't really feel anything. There's an orange shine at the edge of his vision, to his right, where the little window is. His seat is in front of the wings, and he has a clear idea on what exactly that bright, fast flickering means. He just doesn't want to see it. There's a yellow mask in front of him, and around him he can see and hear people panicking. Kurt himself feels hollow. He just wanted to go home for his father's birthday. Now, he probably will never get there._

_How on earth should he cope with that idea?_

_He looks down at his hands to find them shaking, and he can feel the liquid of tears in his face. They sounds are getting worse, it feels like the plane is being torn apart. What a ridiculous way to go... _

_The loudest screech yet makes Kurt turn around at last. His first thought is that this can't be happening. He doesn't actually see the heck of the plane breaking off. Suddenly, there's a pull, and Kurt is screaming, and then..._

_And then he's floating._

_The plane and everything pales around him, it looks almost transparent, unreal. But there are arms wrapped around him, and he can feel a body behind him, holding him tight, the only real thing at this moment. There's a weight on his shoulder, like somebody resting their head there, and then the plane – the parts of it, really – they are gone, falling under him and sailing to the ground, and Kurt himself is soaring, held by invisible arms. And then, slowly, they're descending, and while they are, Kurt feels breath tickle his ear, and there's a voice._

"Don't be afraid. You are safe."

_It's a male voice, deep and smooth, and it's more relaxing than Kurt would have thought possible. He has stopped screaming now. He stares down to where the plane is falling to the ground now, and then he sees the fires of an explosion. He gasps, but there is nothing he can do, as they sink down.__ This can't be real. How on earth could this be happening?_

_His shaking turns into fighting. This can't be real, this is just a dream, he has to escape somehow... _

_But the arms around him hold him tight, don't even loosen their grip for a second, and Kurt is sobbing while he struggles. He doesn't understand what's going on, he just wants to be far away, to be home with his family, or to never have come onto this horrible flight..._

_And then the voice is back, a soft crooning, and it takes Kurt a moment until he recognizes the words, or the melody._

"_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around. Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around..."_

_It's getting more surreal with every second, but the voice is warm and soothing, and as that invisible boy is slowly guiding him down to earth, he closes his eyes against the fires and stops fighting. Maybe this is just a hallucination, some last vision of beauty that his dying brain is conjuring up. But if that's the case, at least he can go in peace. _

_He raises his own voice in an attempt to harmonize. At first, his voice is scratchy, from the smoke or the screaming, he couldn't tell, but after a few verses he feels comfortable enough. And so their voices blend together, better than in any duet Kurt remembered from glee club or NYADA, but right now he's floating above the ground, above the plane he had just been sitting in, and of course it is perfect. _

_His feet touch the ground. When he looks up, he can see the plane burning, and a shudder runs through him. Whoever is holding him, puts him gently down onto the ground, and then the arms are loosening around him. Kurt acts on instinct, he throws himself into those arms even though he can't see the person, but he can't be alone right now, he has no idea how to react, or what to do and..._

_And then he's embraced. He feels a strong chest against his, the arms return around him and pull him close, and as he puts his face down against an invisible shoulder, he feels soft hair tickle his cheek._

"_Thank you," Kurt says, and it's almost a sob._

"_You are going to be fine," the voice says. "I promise."_

"_Who... who are you?"_

_A soft laughter that sounds like bells is his answer. "It doesn't matter," the voice says. "You wouldn't remember."_

"_Remember?" Kurt asked. "So I've seen you before?"_

"_You have," the voice says softly,"in your dreams."_

_Kurt wants to ask further question, but he feels ridiculously tired all of a sudden._

"_Rest," the voice says, "I promise you are going to be alright. They will come and look for you, and they will find you here. You will be with your family soon. This will all be like a bad dream."_

_Kurt's eyes fluttered shut, and it took such an effort to open them again. "Will I see you again?"_

_A moment of hesitation, then Kurt feels a hand run through his hair. "I'd like that," the voice said. "I really would."_

_As Kurt lets himself sink against that other person and loses the fight against sleep, he hears this soft voice singing, this time a song he doesn't know._

"_I don't know when,  
I don't know how,  
But I know something's starting right now...  
Watch and you'll see,  
One day I'll be  
Part of your world."_

* * *

Kurt awoke once more from the same dream. It had been weeks since his plane crashed, and he had survived as if through a miracle. In fact, he had been the only survivor, found in some distance to the actual crash. The official story was, that he had been torn out of the plane when it broke apart, although nobody could explain why he had been completely unharmed. Kurt had accepted that explanation. He did remember what had happened, but he had to admit himself that it sounded absolutely ridiculous. It was more likely that these memories were the result of a severe concussion. At least that sounded more likely than the story that an invisible boy had flown him right out of the plane and carried him safely down to the ground.

With a sigh, Kurt sat up on his bed and looked around. This afternoon, he had come home from his Thanksgiving visit in Ohio – via train, this time, because Kurt saw no reason to tempt fate. It was still in the middle of the night, but usually after these dreams he found it hard to fall asleep again.

He was surprised that these dreams didn't shake him more. But in his dreams and when he woke up, the thing he actually focused on wasn't the horror of the crash, but that voice, the warmth of that boy who had saved him, and how he had felt a peace before he lost consciousness.

Quietly, to not wake up his room mates, Kurt went over into the kitchen. A warm milk was the best recipe against insomnia. And he did want to sleep. It was silly, and probably it had all been in his imagination, but the boy had said Kurt saw him in his dreams. There had been dreams before, dreams about castles and forests and rainbows, and a boy he could never remember upon waking. But these dreams had become rare, and every time he woke, he could remember less from his dreams. The one thing he could say was that those nights were peaceful.

When his milk was ready, Kurt sprinkled some cinnamon onto it, before he stepped to the window. He could see the moon at the night sky, silver and full. It wasn't quiet – New York never really was – but it was slower than it was during days, and enough to calm him down further.

Two months ago, he had been alright. He had loved his classes at NYADA, his job at a diner and his internship at Vogue. He had been busy every moment of the day, and it had been enough. One near-death experience later, and he couldn't help but wonder if his life was really going the way he wanted it to. He hardly saw his family, and he didn't really have time for friends, except for Rachel and Santana, but then again he lived and worked with them, even went to school with Rachel. He hadn't had a boyfriend in months, mostly because he didn't have any time to spare, but also because his feelings for his ex just hadn't been enough to fight for him. Kurt had been fine then, being as busy as he was he would prefer to be alone than being with someone he didn't have any strong feelings for. Now, he was wondering, if he had made the right choice.

Was he missing out on something in his life? He had gotten a miraculous second chance, could it be that he was wasting it with work and forgetting to live in the process?

He had been wondering ever since the plane crash, but the thought didn't get him anywhere. Maybe he was a bit lonely sometimes, but he was doing what he loved – shouldn't that be enough?

With a sigh, he looked up at the moon – and froze. It still looked like a silver disk, but now there was a beam of light crossing it, like a gash across the moon, emitting greenish light. Then, a streak of that green light seemed to fall straight from the moon, down to the ground. It got closer, bigger, and then the light got so bright that it blinded him. A shudder seemed to go through the earth itself, and then there was complete silence. When Kurt looked outside, all street lights had gone out. But he could see a soft shimmer somewhere outside.

He wasn't even thinking. Minutes later, he had hastily thrown on some clothes and rushed down the stairs. Something had happened, something had _fallen_... But when he stepped outside, the street lights were coming back on, and the noises of the street were slowly returning.

But he hadn't just imagined it, Kurt was sure of it. There was something in the air... something that had been there the day of the plane crash. He couldn't quite define it, but there were goosebumps on his skin.

It was this feeling that led his steps. He wasn't completely sure where he was going, but his feet kept walking. Then, finally, he turned around the corner and found it.

There was a figure sitting on the floor. As Kurt came closer he could see a boy, maybe about his own age. He had dark hair, that fell into his face in soft curls and obscured his eyes right now. His clothes were unusual, even for the standards Kurt was used to from Vogue. His pants were of a green, shimmering fabric, and the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing looked almost transparent in the moonshine. When he heard Kurt approaching, he looked up. He seemed to be dazed, but when their eyes met, his whole face lit up.

In a second, the boy was on his feet, but stumbled. Kurt rushed forward on instinct and held him so he wouldn't fall.

The boy looked up, so Kurt could now see his almost golden eyes, that seemed to glow from an internal light, making them stand out even in the darkness. Kurt felt his heart skip a beat. Could it be...?

The boy seemed a mix of embarrassed and amused by his current lack of grace, and then he was laughing... or he seemed to, but there was no sound. The boy blinked in surprise, and Kurt saw something dawn in his eyes. The boy looked down, then back at Kurt with an apologetic smile and a shrug.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked. He felt a bit out of breath, but he couldn't help be a bit disappointed. Of course, he couldn't expect his savior to suddenly fall from the sky, or even be real for that matter.

The boy smiled at him and nodded. He put a hand on Kurt's arm and he felt immediately calmer.

"My name is Kurt. Did you..." Kurt hesitated. It was such a weird question, but... "did you fall?"

The boy's smile got wider and he nodded. He looked up into the sky, and a frown formed in his face. Something seemed to bother him.

"Can you speak, at all?"

The boy shook his head. Great, this would make things anything but easy. "If you're not hurt, can I help you get home?"

The boy's reaction was immediate, he shook his head almost violently.

"Alright, fine," Kurt said, "but you can't just stay here in the street, you have to go somewhere. It's too cold, you're not even wearing shoes!"

The boy looked around as if he only now noticed the November night air. He still didn't seem to feel it, though, despite the light fabric he was wearing.

"Don't you have anywhere to go?" Kurt asked.

The boy shrugged, then put his open palm against Kurt's chest and looked up to him with a questioning expression.

"That's a joke, right?"

But the way the boy's eyebrows rose in confusion, Kurt realized it hadn't been. This stranger, who apparently had fallen from the sky, honestly expected to be taken home with Kurt – and Kurt actually found himself considering it. Maybe it was just some bout of insanity, but he had felt something weird that reminded him of the plane crash, his own personal miracle. This boy couldn't be the one who had saved him, but he did look close enough to the few fragments he remembered from his dreams. Apparently, he had fallen from the sky, and obviously, he needed help.

"Alright, but this is just for one night, do you hear me?" Kurt asked and tried to make his voice stricter than he actually felt.

Immediately, the boy's smile returned, so wide that Kurt thought it was enough to light up the whole street.

Kurt sighed, still not sure if this was the right decision, but he started the way back to the loft he shared with his friends. A few steps later, the boy was walking beside him and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he took Kurt's hand.

Kurt stopped and stared at him in confusion,and the boy looked back at him expectantly, without letting go of Kurt's hand. Kurt frowned at him, then looked pointedly at their joined hands. The boy followed his eyes, looked up at Kurt for a moment with a slight, confused frown, and then slowly pulled his hand away, as if he was unsure what it was that Kurt was offended by. Kurt almost felt bad. Also, the touch of the boy's hand had been surprisingly warm. But that was not the right moment for this. He turned away from the boy and kept walking. A moment later, the boy was walking by his side again. His eyes seemed to wander a few times to the hand Kurt had just withdrawn, but he didn't draw any further attention to it.

They arrived at the loft soon after. The boy looked around in awe and let his hands stroke over the walls, the paintings Santana had gotten god knows where, and the small television set. There was a soft smile on his face, as if all of this was not only new but amazing to him. Kurt watched him as he walked around the living room for a while. His first instinct had been to warn the boy to be quiet, so he wouldn't wake his room mates, but then he noticed that the boy's steps were completely soundless.

After a while, the boy noticed the half-empty cup of now cold milk. Curiously, he took the cup and sniffed at it. A broad smile of what looked like recognition appeared on his face. He looked up at Kurt as if to ask for permission. Kurt couldn't help but laugh. Great, apparently he had picked up a stray kitten.

"Go ahead," he said in a low voice and walked closer, "it's better warm, though."

The boy smiled at him and took a sip. His eyes gleamed, and he had quickly downed most of the cup. By the time Kurt was with him, there was only a bit left. The boy offered him the cup. Kurt hesitated for a moment, before he just drank it.

"We should go to sleep now. I'm not sure what you've done tonight, but I'm exhausted," Kurt said. He looked the boy up and down and wondered if he had anything that would fit him. He was shorter than Kurt, and looked quite toned. Through the almost transparent shirt, Kurt could see his muscles. He'd think about a more appropriate wardrobe tomorrow, but he was quite sure that he would find pajamas that fit.

"Come," he said and went to his own bedroom. He pulled pajamas out of his drawer and offered it to the boy. He took the clothes and looked at them appraisingly. If Kurt had any doubts about offering the dark blue silk, they were destroyed when he saw the boy's eyes light up as he let his hands run over the material. He looked up and moved his lips, as if to say thank you – but again, there was no sound coming out.

He sighed, and then he took off his shirt.

Kurt felt his blood rush to his cheeks. This boy was completely insane, what on earth had he been thinking, taking a clearly mad person home? He turned around quickly, just took the pajamas he had changed out of earlier, and hurried to the bathroom to get changed. When he was done, the boy was sitting on the bed, clad in Kurt's pajama, and his clothes were lying on the floor. With a frown, Kurt picked up the clothes, folded them quickly and put them on top of his drawer.

"If I catch you letting any of _my_ clothes lying on the floor, then you and I are going to have a problem," Kurt said and gave the boy a stern look that was only half joking.

The answer was a nod, but the boy was smiling. Obviously, he had seen through the tone.

Kurt looked away from the boy and his smile, and that was when the next problem occurred to him. He had one bed, and he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of sharing it with a stranger. But now said stranger was lying down and putting his head on the pillow. For a moment, he thought about sending the boy away, but then he guessed he'd been through more than Kurt had. At least for tonight, he should probably keep the bed.

"I'll be on the couch," he said instead.

The boy sat up and looked at him curiously. Then, when he seemed to have understood, he quickly shook his head and gestured beside him. Obviously, he didn't have the slightest problem with sharing a bed. Kurt eyed the boy sceptically. But then again, he _was_ tired... and sharing a bed probably wasn't even half as insane as letting a complete stranger into his apartment. So he sighed and climbed into the bed beside the strange boy and pulled the covers onto him – that was something the boy apparently hadn't even thought of before, but now he too slipped under the covers.

Kurt figured the thought of how insane his was would be enough to keep him awake all night, but to his surprise, he soon felt his eyes sliding shut.

He just hoped he hadn't made a terrible mistake.

* * *

When Kurt woke up, he felt better rested than he had in a long time. It was surprising, really, he rarely slept well under a full moon, and nights disturbed by that dream were even worse. But maybe they had canceled each other out. Or maybe...

He noticed a movement beside him and opened his eyes quickly. He was faced with a dark-haired boy lying in his bed. Kurt gasped, as the memories of last night returned. Apparently, it hadn't been a dream. The boy was looking at him out of those weird, golden eyes. From this angle, Kurt could see that his ears seemed angular, almost pointed.

Maybe the explanation for all of this was that Kurt was losing his mind. That made more sense than any other theory he'd come up with so far.

The boy was watching him intently, with a soft smile on his face, as if he was completely content where he was. Kurt felt warm at the sight. He didn't even know this boy, but he couldn't remember anyone ever looking at him that fondly.

"Good morning," he muttered, and the boy's smile widened. He opened his mouth, and his lips moved to what Kurt assumed were the words "Good morning", but again, there was no sound. The boy frowned, but then he sighed soundlessly and bowed his head.

Kurt felt bad for him. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his voice, and he had no idea what kind of consolation could help in this situation.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked instead.

The boy frowned at him, and for a moment Kurt had the ridiculous thought that this boy didn't know what coffee was, but that was completely impossible.

"I'll make you a coffee, then I'll take a shower. You can use the bathroom afterwards, and then we'll figure out what to do with you, okay?"

The boy nodded at him. Kurt got up and went into the kitchen. The loft was quiet, if he remembered correctly the girls both had an early shift at the diner, so he would have some time to figure things out before they came home. He wasn't really looking forward to explaining to them why he had taken a complete stranger in. Granted, the boy didn't seem dangerous – but on the other hand, Kurt wouldn't exactly take bets on his sanity.

When the coffee was ready, he turned around to call for the boy, only to find him standing right behind him, leaning against the fridge. Kurt hadn't heard his steps on the floor, but then he remembered how quietly the boy had been walking yesterday.

"You're a strange one," Kurt muttered as he put the cup into the boy's hand. "Careful, it's hot." He almost felt stupid for giving such an obvious warning, but then he caught how the boy had just been about to drink, and figured that the warning was completely justified.

"Stay here, sit down, don't touch anything and drink your coffee, alright?" Kurt asked.

The boy nodded to show he had understood and sat down at the table. He took a careful sip. Kurt hadn't been sure how he'd want his coffee and had just put in a bit of milk and no sugar. The boy made a perplexed expression, but then tried again. Apparently, he really hadn't had coffee before and wasn't sure yet whether he liked it or not. But he kept taking careful sips, so it couldn't be completely bad. At least he was reasonably sure that the coffee would preoccupy the boy long enough that Kurt had time to get ready for the day.

He used the time in the shower for some serious contemplation. He had no idea what to do with the boy. What if he really didn't have anywhere to go? Or maybe he had come from a mental institution? And he did have some kind of fall. Should Kurt get him to a hospital? Was keeping the boy here reckless not only because of Kurt but for his own sake?

The point was that he would have to make some kind of decision on what to do with the boy. He would call around the nearest hospitals to find out, if there was somebody missing. Or maybe he should start with finding a way to communicate with the boy. He didn't even know the boy's name. And he already had an idea on how to start the communication. Maybe then he'd even get more information on what had happened to him.

By the time he had made this decision, he was ready. He stepped out of the bathroom and froze. The boy was still sitting at the table, his cup in his hands, and opposite him, there was Santana.

"Oh no."

"Well, look at that," Santana said and looked at him with a broad smirk that made him pale. "I've just come home from a late-night shift, and look what I've found in our kitchen. Got yourself some eye candy – good for you, Princess."

"It's not like that," Kurt said hastily and went over to the two of them.

"Not one for great conversations, your boy toy," Santana remarked.

The strange boy looked from Kurt to Santana and was obviously insecure – Santana had that effect on a lot of people. He probably had to listen to a lot of remarks and innuendo. Kurt shuddered at the mere thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The boy nodded and started to smile again, although he did throw some weary looks at Santana.

"So, no introductions so far... I assume that means we won't see much of him in the future?" Santana asked. "Too bad... at least this one wouldn't have talked our ears off."

"Oh my god, stop, I said it's not like that!" Kurt said. He felt his cheeks burning. Why on earth had they ever allowed Santana to move in here?

"Whatever, ladies. I've had the shift from hell, so I'll take a nap. Whatever you do, you better be quiet. ...actually, I guess this one would be useful for that, as well."

"Go away, Satan!" Kurt yelled after her as she disappeared into her own bedroom. With a sigh, he let himself sink into the chair she had just occupied. "I am _so_ sorry for her. That was Santana, one of my roommates. I actually thought she had an early shift, but... apparently not. Sorry."

The boy put a hand onto his arm and smiled softly, as if to say that it was okay. Kurt found himself returning the smile without thinking about it. Then he remembered the idea that had come to him in the shower. He looked around and found a notepad lying on the table. He grabbed it and put it in front of the boy and the pencil into his hand. The boy looked at him puzzled.

"This way we can communicate," Kurt explained. "I mean, you understand what I'm saying, and if you write down your answers, we can have a conversation."

The boys eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. Apparently, it had been a good idea.

"So, I figured we should start with your name," Kurt said.

The boy smiled at him and brought the pen down onto the pad. Kurt held his breath, curious on just what name they boy would have. He assumed something whimsical, or maybe old-fashioned. He did look as if he'd stepped out of a fairy tale, after all. But when he looked at the pad, Kurt was disappointed. The boy had written down symbols that Kurt had never seen. From what he saw it seemed to be a short name, but he couldn't figure out what the drawn lines meant. It reminded him of some kind of rune, but not any kind of writing he had seen before.

"Maybe you should try writing in English?" Kurt suggested, although he didn't have high hopes for that idea, either. The boy frowned and looked at him uncertainly. Then, he scribbled something beside the symbols he'd just written down. But that too wasn't any writing Kurt had ever seen.

"No, I mean... do you know the Latin alphabet? Like this?" Kurt took the notepad and wrote his own name down.

The boy blinked, and when he looked up to meet Kurt's eye he looked defeated. Slowly, he shook his head and tapped his finger onto the rune-like symbols he had written down.

Great. So much for that brilliant plan.

"I will have to call you something, though," Kurt said. "Can I guess?"

The boy shrugged. He didn't seem too thrilled with the idea, but there was a certain resignation to him.

"Is it... Peter?"

The expression on the boy's face was almost revolted and he shook his head.

"What? It was just a guess. I was thinking of Peter Pan."

The boy tilted his head as if he was considering that prospect and a smile appeared on his face, but he shook his head.

"Right, not Peter or Pan then. Let's see... Oberon?"

There was a gleam in his eyes now, as if he was excited, but again, he shook his head.

"But something like it?"

The boy hesitated, then shook his head.

"Please tell me it's not Puck," Kurt said.

There was a snort, and the boy shook his head.

"Well, that's a relief..." Kurt muttered. „What about... I don't know, Danny?"

That, too, was answered with a head shake.

"I don't know, Rumpelstiltskin?"

Again, the boy tilted his head.

"From the fairy tale," Kurt said. At the word fairy tale, the boy's eyes got that shine again. Kurt frowned. It was something about fairy tales then, or maybe fairies... but most fairy tales he knew only gave the name of their princesses. "Charming?" he tried again, but that too wasn't the correct answer. "Sorry, I never liked guessing games. I'll get back to you if I have any other ideas?"

The boy smiled at him apologetically. It was clear to see that he wasn't too thrilled himself with his inability to speak.

"Alright, but I have another plan to find out who you are – if that's okay with you?"

All he got from the boy at that was a shrug, as if he wasn't overly concerned with when or even if Kurt would find out more about him. But at least that suggested that he didn't have anything to hide. Time to see if this could work out.

* * *

It was afternoon until Kurt gave up. He had called every hospital in an increasing radius, every mental institution in the state, and even called the police to find out if there was a missing person. There were tons of course, but none fit the description of his strange guest. He should have spent the day at , but luckily, Isabelle had been understanding to give him the day off if he managed to send in his articles within two days. The article in question was almost done already, so Kurt could concentrate on finding out something about the boy.

Unfortunately, he didn't find a thing.

After breakfast, Kurt had picked out some clothes he figured would fit the boy and sent him into the shower. Of course, he hadn't expected that he would actually have to explain how the shower worked, but he got the feeling that surprises like that would be common around the boy. He had come out of the shower in Kurt's clothes with an excited glow in his eyes, and Kurt had to look away quickly. It was quite the sight.

For a while afterwards, the boy had been content to just sit there and listen to Kurt make his phone calls with the different institutions, but after a while he seemed to get bored and started to have a look around in the loft. He carefully stayed clear of the room Santana had disappeared into, but looked at most other places. Kurt followed him a bit, just to keep an eye on him. A lot of things seemed to interest him, he spent several minutes looking at Rachel's earrings, the spice rack in the kitchen, and could hardly be torn away from the display of Kurt's ties and bow ties. The Elf-on-the-Shelf had been met with a frown, though, that was so strict that Kurt felt compelled to put it away. Rachel and that idiot Jesse had brought it in as a preparation for Christmas, even though it was almost a month away. Some time earlier, Santana had left her room and gone god-knows-where, not without throwing in a few more remarks dripping with innuendo.

For lunch, Kurt had taken a small break to cook and eat. The boy had been only slightly helpful, but at least appreciative enough of the food. Further attempts at guessing his name had brought the result, that he wasn't named Aladdin, Naveen or Shang either. Maybe he should find a name book and read every name to him until one fit...

But for now, he was tired of researching. He had tried for hours to find a hint, and had nothing to show for it. It was simply exhausting. He sank back into his chair, and tried to calm down. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Kurt turned around to see the boy beside him, a cup of coffee in his other hand as a silent offer.

"Thank you," Kurt said, although he couldn't keep a hint of surprise out of his voice. This morning, the boy hadn't known what coffee was, now he could make it himself?

Kurt took a sip and got his next surprise. It was exactly the way he had made it earlier. It wasn't the same as his beloved mocha at the Lima Bean had been, but it was still good, better than he was used to from their beans. When he noticed that the boy was looking at him expectantly, he smiled. "It's good," he said.

The boy's smile got wider and he bowed his head, a soft blush appearing on his face. It was such an endearing look that Kurt couldn't help but stare at him. He didn't mean to, but then the boy lifted his head and their eyes met. His smile softened, and now he looked almost hopeful at Kurt. There was a moment of hesitation, a weird, unusual pull towards him, that he didn't know how to handle...

The door was thrown open, followed by a loud "Kurt, I'm home!"

Kurt turned his head immediately. It was Rachel, who was probably just coming from rehearsal. Despite still being a Sophomore at NYADA, Rachel had actually managed to make a name of herself as the star of the Funny Girl revival, and had soon found other roles after the show ended. Her career was already on a good path – not that he could say the same thing for her personal life.

"I've had the worst day," Rachel started to complain as she took of her coat. "The director is so strict, you wouldn't believe it, and I swear Alan hasn't rehearsed our duet at _all_, I mean, honestly, I manage to be prepared between school and the diner, and maintaining a long-distance relationship, which, let me tell you Kurt, is actually really hard work, and I _miss _him and... who's that?"

Rachel had finally turned around and seen their guest. Kurt cringed. Santana was one thing, she was completely satisfied with the explanation of the boy being some kind of one-night-stand, but Rachel would want a better explanation, and Kurt wasn't sure if he had one.

"Oh, yeah, right. This is my roommate Rachel, and this is, um... Flynn."

He prayed he would get away with it, but the boy shook his head violently and frowned at him as if to underscore that no, this really was not his name, why would Kurt think that?

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked as she approached and eyed them sceptically.

Kurt sighed. "Okay, I haven't figured out his name yet."

Rachel looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Did you consider asking?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Wow, that never occurred to me. Could you please tell me your name, dear stranger?"

The boy moved his mouth as if to say "No", and okay, now Kurt couldn't help but smile.

"Wait, he can't talk?"

"He _can_ hear you," Kurt said pointedly, but it went right over Rachel's head.

"Well, who is he, why is he here, how did you meet, tell me _everything!_"

"Why this obsession?" Kurt asked.

Rachel sighed and fell into the chair opposite of Kurt. "I miss Jesse, Kurt, you have to distract me... Why is he in London?"

"To further his career after he didn't get into NYADA and to not stand in your shadow anymore?" Kurt suggested. "Calm down, Rachel, he won't make it two months on his own, and you know it."

Rachel sighed. "What if he meets another girl?"

"There is no girl but you who can stand to be around him for more than five minutes, so I don't think you have to worry," Kurt said. This was good. There were three topics that were surefire ways to distract Rachel's opinion, and those were Barbra Streisand, her own Broadway career, and Jesse St. James.

"You're not very good at distracting me," Rachel said with a pout. "Can't we do anything?"

"We could watch Moulin Rouge again," Kurt suggested.

"We've seen that a million times, Kurt! Why won't you tell me about your friend already?"

"Casablanca then?"

Rachel pouted even worse, but finally sighed. "Alright, fine. But you have to make popcorn."

Kurt sighed and complied. The boy had been sitting there silently, watching the two of them while they had their little exchange, and now followed Kurt into the kitchen. He probably didn't know how to make popcorn either, but at least he could hold stuff. A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting on the couch, Kurt between his room mate and the strange boy. Judging from his expression, he had never seen Casablanca either. Kurt found himself wondering just where this boy had come from. It was as if he came from another planet – or had actually stepped out of a fairy tale.

And then, suddenly, the boy was pulling his sleeve and pointed at the screen, his face glowing with excitement. Kurt frowned. It wasn't one of the more interesting scenes, and even though it was obviously an excellent movie, Kurt wasn't sure what had sparked this kind of excitement. But the boy just pointed again at the screen, or apparently at Humphrey Bogart. Kurt frowned. Could it mean...?

"Rick?" he said sceptically and watched the boy. That didn't seem like a fitting name for this boy... and he did shake his head immediately, and pointed at the man again.

"Humphrey?" Kurt tried instead.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.

"I'm trying to guess his name," Kurt said and hoped it didn't sound nearly as ridiculous as he felt.

The boy nodded and pointed at the screen again.

"That guy's name is Rick," Kurt said. "He's played by Humphrey Bogart."

Now, the boy's expression got impatient. He raised his hand showing two fingers. Kurt thought for a moment... and then it dawned on him.

"His name is Rick Blaine..." he muttered. "Blaine?"

Finally, the answer was excited nodding. Kurt felt his heart beat accelerate. He had done it, he had guessed the name!

He noticed Rachel staring at him and turned back to the movie. This was the weirdest day. The boy – Blaine, and wasn't it nice to have a name to put to the face – smiled at Kurt once more, so wide and sincere that Kurt felt himself blush, and then just leaned against him as if they had known each other for ages. And if he was quite honest with himself, Blaine seemed... familiar, as if he had met him before... But it couldn't be. He would have remembered this boy.

Unless he hadn't seen him... or only seen him in a blurred dream...

But no, this was ridiculous. There was no fairy tale, just slightly confusing reality. And while he still had no idea how to figure it out, at least he now had a name.

* * *

Having a name didn't solve all questions, of course. This night, he found himself sitting at his shift at the diner. It was quiet and there were only a handful customers, one of whom Kurt had brought along himself. Blaine was sitting at the bar, slowly sipping a virgin cocktail Kurt had brought him. He wasn't sure yet if it was a good idea to introduce alcohol to the boy's probably questionable state of mind. For a moment he had considered letting Blaine stay at the loft with Rachel, but he still hadn't given her a good explanation on who he was, and he also didn't want to overwhelm the boy. And then, although he had problems admitting it even to himself, he didn't really want to let him out of his sight, and not just because he was worried what he might do on his own.

Of course, now he had the misfortune of being cornered by Santana in the kitchen, who was even more interested now in finding out who exactly this boy was and why Kurt kept bringing him along. The worst thing was, that he couldn't escape at the diner, and so it had taken Santana less than an hour to get the whole story on just how Kurt had found that boy. Kurt had expected ridicule, snarky remarks and maybe outrage about him letting a stranger stay with him, but instead she turned unusually quiet.

"You don't know a thing about him," she said, "and you have no reason to trust him. You don't really think he fell from the sky, do you?"

Kurt frowned at her. "Why are you being serious? Don't you want to make some jokes about... I don't know, faeries?"

To his surprise, Santana suddenly looked vulnerable. "I never joke about those," she said. "Look, you are clearly being completely insane, but... if it feel right? You should see where it goes."

"See where it goes?" Kurt repeated and looked at her confused. "Santana, I'm not trying to date him, it's just that I literally don't know what to do with him."

Santana snorted. "Tell that to your face, do you have any idea of the way you're staring at him?"

Kurt blushed. "I'm not! You're absolutely ridiculous."

"Then why did you take him in, anyway?" Santana asked. "No, you don't have to answer. Stay in denial, you'll figure it out. Until then, keep an eye on him."

"I don't even know if I want that." Kurt sighed and leaned against the wall. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Santana. I don't know him, I can't just keep him living with us forever, I have just learned his name. What am I supposed to do with him?"

"You'll figure it out," Santana said. "I guess he'll get used to everything soon enough. And then... Look, I don't mind if you let him stay. You obviously formed some kind of connection with him, and I'll be the last person to stand in the way of that. I'll help you convince Rachel, if that's necessary. So relax, it'll be fine. Just... enjoy the time. These things are fragile."

"Do you know what's going on?" Kurt asked.

Santana shrugged, and suddenly the serious vulnerability had ceased and she looked more like her usual, snarky self. "You got a crush on a homeless person, or possibly a kitten trapped in a human body. Whatever. If he was a robber or an axe murderer, I guess he would have robbed or killed us already. Just make sure he doesn't touch my stuff and we'll be fine."

"But..."

Before Kurt could say or ask another thing, Santana had turned around and gone back outside. She was now going directly towards Blaine. Kurt frowned, but followed quietly to see if she would bother him. She just spoke to him, although the word "just" was maybe a bit too optimistic when it referred to Santana. By the time Kurt was close enough, he could only hear a few words.

"...know her?"

Kurt saw Blaine nod. Santana gasped and for a second, her expression softened again. "Is she happy?"

Again, Blaine nodded.

"Well, good." Santana said and left without another word. When she saw Kurt standing there, she glared at him so viciously, that he took a step backwards. It had been a while since he had seen her like this, and he really didn't want to provoke her wrath. Fortunately, she just passed him and disappeared in the kitchen again. Since Kurt valued his life he would never mention that he had seen a moist glint in her eyes.

Instead, he went over to Blaine who had by now emptied his glass.

"Everything okay with you?" he asked.

Blaine looked at him with a tender expression and nodded. His hand found Kurt's and squeezed it shortly, maybe as a thanks.

"I'll get you another drink," Kurt said and turned away quickly. Santana was just as ridiculous as the whole situation. He did not have a crush on some weird boy who may or may not have fallen out of the skies. Absolutely ridiculous.

* * *

After two weeks, Kurt had given up on solving the mystery. He had tried calling the police and all hospitals nearby several times in the last few days, but there had been no further result. The police had at least kept notes about Blaine, just in case anybody would file a missing person report, but Santana had already told him that it was futile. Blaine himself hadn't seemed too concerned with the whole thing. In fact, he seemed pretty happy with where he was. And Kurt had to admit that he felt the same way.

Blaine fit seamlessly into the loft and their living arrangements. Rachel was quickly drawn to somebody more prone to listening than actual talking, and to Kurt's surprise Santana had somehow taken him under her wings. It was amazing, really, that Santana, who had the shortest temper of everybody Kurt had ever met with the possible exception of their cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, showed so much patience whenever Blaine was puzzled by something completely mundane, be it the stove, computers or the concept of coffee shops.

By now, Kurt was half convinced that Blaine had come either from another planet, another time, or possibly a fairy tale. It was a theory he carefully kept to himself. He assumed Santana would laugh at him and Rachel would think he had snapped under the stress. He had suggested it to Blaine himself, but he had only tilted his head and frowned. Eventually he had shrugged, as if the answer was neither yes or no.

Eventually, Kurt had just accepted the fact that Blaine would be part of their lives. He was living with them, he accompanied Kurt to his shifts at the diner, and once Kurt had taken him to Isabelle when she needed a model for a few new designs that she was uncertain of. She had dressed him up in several outfits while Kurt had tried his best to concentrate on the article he had to write. The attempts had been in vain, but the view had been great. Afterwards, Kurt had taken Blaine to the mall and bought him several outfits of his own, and only part of that hat been to play some more dress-up.

They had come to some weird form of communication, just with looks and small gestures. Kurt couldn't help but smile when he thought of it, how easy it had become to read Blaine. It was even nicer to know that it was just something between the two of them. Rachel still didn't get Blaine most of the time. Santana had more luck, mostly because she was pretty good at guessing the things that confused Blaine, but it wasn't the same level of understanding.

By now, Kurt spent almost every free minute with Blaine. The boy had a calming influence, and even if it still felt a bit weird to share the bed with somebody he hardly knew, he couldn't remember sleeping this well since the plane crash. They spent hours watching movies – Blaine seemed to have taking a special liking to Disney movies, but he was also one of the few people he could watch horrible reality shows with – listening to music, or with conversations. Obviously, Kurt did the talking while Blaine listened, but he still managed to communicate through expressions. Kurt was starting to read his smiles, with their varying intensities and degrees of tenderness, his frowns, that head-tilt, and those times when he bowed his head, frustrated by all the things he couldn't communicate. Those were the times that had Kurt reach out for him. They were almost heartbreaking.

And the more time he spent with the boy, the harder it was to ignore what Santana had said. He tried to tell himself that this was ridiculous, that he didn't know this boy, no matter how familiar he felt or how well he fit into his life. But that reasoning felt weaker with every day. He felt as if maybe he did know Blaine, as if he could understand the boy just from the way he behaved, from the gentleness he showed when listening to Rachel's worries about her relationship, or Santana complaining about her day. Kurt felt as if he knew Blaine from the smile he wore when he walked through the streets, the delight with which he fed the ducks in Central Park that positively flocked to him. There was compassion, and joy, and Kurt wished he had the content he saw in Blaine in his own life. He still couldn't shake the that thought, that just maybe Blaine was the boy from his dreams, the one who had saved him – but no matter the answer, he just felt happier than he had in ages.

Tonight was one of the few occasions when Kurt and both of his girls had the night off, and as usual, they celebrated it by visiting a bar that one of them had chosen – which meant that two out of three times, they ended at Callbacks. Tonight was one of those nights.

Kurt had fallen in love with Callbacks the first time he set foot into the place, so he really hoped that Blaine would like it too – no matter how much Santana had smirked when he let it slip around her. But now that they entered the bar, he felt his concerns lessen. Blaine looked around the bar with an expression of wide-eyed awe that Kurt had seen several times throughout the last week. It was a good expression. While the went to the cable, Kurt felt Blaine's hand slip into his. After their first meeting, he hadn't casually taken Kurt's hand, only sometimes when he was overwhelmed by something in the city, and once during a firework, that had been overwhelming on a completely different level. Tonight, Callbacks was filled with more people than usual, so Kurt understood how it could be a bit much for somebody who wasn't used to crowds.

He navigated them to the table where Rachel and Santana were already waiting.

"Oh god, finally!" Santana cried out when they sat down. "Please talk about anything else than her stupid boyfriend's stupid play."

"It's not stupid," Rachel said and glared at Santana, "it's _iconic_."

"I thought he was doing a comedy show," Kurt said with a frown. "Or did he get fired from that?"

"He just got a better role, he was _not_ fired!" Rachel insisted.

"Don't encourage her," Santana said darkly, "let's just not discuss this anymore? How is your boy doing?"

"He's not _my_ boy, Santana," Kurt said with a sharp tone in his voice. Of course, at that moment Blaine looped an arm through his and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if to challenge that statement. "Oh, I see where this is going. You're on her side now?" Kurt asked and rolled his eyes in a faked exasperated manner. He could tell from the grin that appeared on Blaine's face that he understood perfectly.

"Of course he's on my side, I'm always right, remember?" Santana asked.

"That is not true, and you know it," Kurt said drily.

"Yeah, well, but I just signed a contract for a new commercial, which means today? I win, at everything. Also, this time, I read the contract before signing it," Santana said.

"Oh my god, that's amazing!" Rachel said. "Congratulations."

The conversation obviously centered on Santana now, and it took Kurt a moment to realize that Blaine wasn't paying attention. "Are you okay?" Kurt asked softly, while Santana and Rachel were involved in a half-heated discussion about the value of commercials for pharmaceutical companies for a television career.

Blaine looked at him in surprise and then nodded slowly. But his eyes had been a thousand miles away. Kurt followed his gaze to the small stage and the piano standing there.

"People sometimes do performances here," he explained, "mostly NYADA students, but everybody can get up and sing something."

Blaine's mouth opened, but by now he had stopped trying to say anything and remembered his inability to do so in time. He frowned and looked upwards, an expression that Kurt had come to understand as he didn't know how to explain what he wanted, and it was usually followed by that frustrated bow of his head.

"Did you sing, before?" Kurt asked.

Blaine blinked, then he nodded. He bit his lower lip and got a faraway look, as if he remembered something. With a soundless sigh, he shook his head and looked up at Kurt. His eyes were softer now, and there was a note of sadness there. Kurt wished he could take it away.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "I wish I knew what happened to you."

Blaine shook his head, and then, after a moment of hesitation, took Kurt's hand. His expression was serious now, and yet there was still that tenderness that was usually in his eyes when he looked at Kurt. It made his breath hitch to have this intense, warm gaze on him.

"I'll find it out somehow," he said softly.

There was the tiniest smile on Blaine's face. It was lovely, but it wasn't enough. They both looked at the stage. Kurt followed Blaine's gaze again, and ended up looking at the piano. "Do you play?" he asked.

This time, the nod came immediately. For Kurt, there was no hesitation. He took Blaine's hand and led him towards the stage. After a few words with the barkeeper, he pulled the boy to the piano and gestured at him to sit down. Blaine stared at him in disbelief, and for a moment Kurt wondered if he had made a mistake. What if Blaine didn't want to perform and just played in private? Was he alright with Kurt putting him on the spot like that? But then, a smile formed on Blaine's face, still incredulous, but somehow... grateful. Kurt found himself squeezing Blaine's hand shortly. And then, Blaine sat down, without letting go of Kurt's hand. He still looked to his right at Kurt, with a question in his eyes. Kurt wasn't sure what he wanted, but he stayed close and put a hand onto Blaine's shoulder as he put his fingers onto the keys. He took one more visible breath, his eyes not leaving Kurt's, and then he started playing.

It wasn't an arrangement he had heard before, so it took Kurt a few moments until he recognized the song, but then he felt his breath hitch. He knew this song, and combined with the way Blaine was looking at him, intently, and with hints of despair that Kurt didn't understand... and suddenly he realized what Blaine had asked for silently. With his hand still on Blaine's shoulder, and without breaking their eye-contact, he started to sing.

"Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around. Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around..."

As he kept singing, he couldn't take his eyes off Blaine. Under the music, he came to life in a way Kurt hadn't seen before in him – or anybody, really. There was passion, as the one he himself felt for performing, and happiness over the way Kurt's voice waved into the piano's notes. The music itself seemed to give him life. Kurt could just imagine what it would feel like, to love music and singing so much, and then to give it up. He swore, the next time Blaine accompanied him to the diner, he would set him down at the piano and let him play through the whole shift, if that was what he wanted.

He had barely noticed, that they had already arrived at the last chorus. By now, Blaine was mouthing along to the lyrics, and Kurt wished he could hear his voice, to sing this as a duet with him... and wondered, if he'd already done so...

For the last verse, he put a hand on Blaine's cheek and stroked over it softly. The boy's eyes fluttered shut, still not missing a single key, but then again, he hadn't looked at the keys once since he started playing.

"Nothing's gonna harm you... not while I'm around."

Applause followed, but Kurt hardly noticed it. He stared at Blaine, and there were tears standing in the boy's eyes. Kurt's hands were shaking, and he kept stroking Blaine's cheek. All he could think of was how much he wanted to kiss him in this moment. As if he could read his mind, Blaine's eyes went down to his lips for a second, before looking back up again. Despite the noise around them, for this moment Kurt felt as if they were completely alone, as if they were in a bubble and everything outside was just muted.

Blaine slowly stood up, and their hands found each other. It would be so easy, all he had to do was lean forward... Damn it, Santana had been right after all. He was in so much trouble...

He made a conscious effort to step away from Blaine. He regretted it the instant he saw the other boy's expression fall. There was more of the despair he had seen earlier, but Kurt still didn't understand it. He wished he had just taken the chance and gone in for the kiss, but now the moment was ruined. They went off the stage and back to their table in silence. Kurt noticed how Blaine showed a wide smile at the people complimenting them on the way. The smile didn't reach his eyes though. Kurt bit his lower lip. Great job he did there, really...

Santana looked at him with some sort of mocking pity and slowly shook her head.

"You're an idiot," she muttered when he sat down beside her, not loud enough for anybody else to hear.

Kurt sighed. "I know."

* * *

A few days later, Kurt still hadn't come to a conclusion on what he should do about the feelings for Blaine that he had undeniably developed. To his surprise, he had found that he was almost frightened of these emotions. He had had crushed on people before, but this was different. His feelings for Blaine were stronger, even though they hardly knew each other. He still didn't know the other boy's full name, he didn't know where he was from or what had happened that rendered him mute and so unfamiliar with everyday events and appliances. He didn't know _anything_ about him...

...except his first name; and that he loved to play the piano; that he used to sing once and missed it like crazy; that his eyes seemed to glow from the inside when he was happy; that he loved seeing new things, new people; he liked Kurt's bow ties; he loved watching Disney and musicals and reality TV and comic book movies; he was smart, he got the hang of machines and other things that didn't require reading ridiculously fast; he was gentle and kind to people and animals; when they were outside there were always songbirds around him; he made Kurt feel calm and safe and _happy_...

Was he actually in love?

Kurt tried to tell himself that it was because in his head there was still that connection between Blaine and that mysterious boy that had saved his life. But that was a ridiculous notion, and he figured it wasn't fair to Blaine either to put such high expectations onto him. He had enough problems of his own, he didn't need Kurt to cast him as his personal savior.

Blaine for his part had lost a bit of his positive, happy energy. Every now and then, Kurt found the boy looking at him, a sad, almost resigned look in his eyes, and sometimes with that same despair he had seen at Callbacks. Kurt hated it, when he looked like that. He just wanted to embrace the boy when he caught that look, but he wasn't completely sure if it was welcome, or what he could do about it.

So now, Sunday noon, Kurt was standing behind the diner's counter sorting the salt and pepper packages. It was a mindless task, and exactly the thing Kurt needed, since his thoughts were once more occupied with that strange boy that had fallen into his life. It was surprisingly hard to get over just how weird every circumstance about Blaine was. It was also confusing. Did he really like Blaine, or was he obsessed with his image of that boy who had saved him? Were they the same person, or had his savior just been a hallucination? There was probably no way of ever finding out, but Kurt didn't know how to let go. He couldn't exactly ask Blaine if he had been around for a plane crash... Or could he? Maybe things would be easier if he just knew once and for all.

"New customer, can you take that one, Kurt?" one of the other waiters asked.

Kurt sighed. "On my way," he said and looked up. He saw a young man sitting at a table near the window. He was on his own and looked around in the diner, as if he was looking for somebody. Well, he was probably looking for someone who'd serve him a drink.

As Kurt approached, he got a better look of the guy sitting there. His hair was black and swept up in an elaborate style, and he was wearing a long black coat that seemed to be covered in dust. Around his neck, there was a strange amulet. It was round, like a ball, but it looked thin and fragile, and there were dark red specks on the white surface. It reminded Kurt of a bird's egg.

Kurt put up his best stage smile before he rattled off his usual text. "Hello, my name is Kurt, and I will be your waiter tonight. May I interest you in our specials for tonight?"

The guy smiled at him. "Hello Kurt, it's very nice to finally speak to you."

Kurt froze and stared at him, as his smile got wider until it reminded him of a cat. He knew that voice, that deep, comforting voice. He would recognize it everywhere.

"You're... Oh my god, it's you," Kurt whispered and stared at the guy in front of him.

The guy nodded. "It's me. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you sooner, but it took me longer than expected to find my way here. I hope you have been well?"

"So it was real," Kurt said. His knees felt weak and he had to sit down. "That crash, it happened just as I remembered? And you... you saved me."

"I did," he said, "and you're welcome."

Kurt stared at him. "Oh my god, of course, thank you, thank you so much, I can't... I can't ever repay you, it's... this is overwhelming."

The guy shrugged, still smiling. "It's fine," he said. "Really, I'm just glad you're alright. Our kind is usually forbidden from interfering, but when I saw you..." He shrugged. "Well, I couldn't help myself. The name is Starchild, by the way."

Kurt inhaled deeply and tried to bring his pulse under control. So it had happened, and this was his savior. There was no mistake, not with that voice. He felt excited, restless... it was strange, if he was honest with himself, he had always connected the person who saved him with calm and comfort... Now, faced with him, Kurt felt the opposite of calm. He could have explained that, of course it was unnerving, it brought everything about the crash back into his mind. But to his own surprise, he also felt disappointed and maybe a bit upset. So it hadn't been Blaine after all.

"Anything's on the house, of course," Kurt said, then he hesitated. "Wait, what did you mean, your kind?"

Starchild looked at him as if he felt guilty. "This will all seem very strange to you," he said with hesitation in his voice.

Kurt snorted. "Everything about this has been strange," he said. "I just want to understand what happened."

"I'm one of the fair folk, Kurt," Starchild said. "A Fae, or fairy, if that is a word that comes easier to you."

Kurt stared at him in disbelief. Fairies existed. This man who had saved his life just told him that fairies existed, as if it was nothing of interest.

Was Blaine one?

"So you saved me with magic?" Kurt asked.

Starchild nodded. "Fairy magic, although I broke some rules of the Fae. I've received quite the punishment for it. But I'm here now, in your world, and that's all that counts."

"Is it hard, to come to this world?"Kurt asked. What if passing into this world hurt the fairies, and that was the reason Blaine couldn't talk? Once upon a time, Kurt would have had more of a problem with accepting the realities of fairies this easily, but with everything that had happened in the last months, it seemed to be the most sensible thing he had heard in ages.

"There are only a few who can pass through the realms. Obviously, the King and Queen are able and allowed to, and I've heard that occasionally, the crown prince travels here to do their bidding. But not even the rest of the royal family can travel freely. The only way for anyone else to safely cross into this world is the Lady Terri."

"Who is she?"

"She's the most powerful witch I've ever known," Starchild said. "It took me time to find her, and then some more time to pay her price. But here I am, I've finally found you."

"What kind of price?" Kurt asked.

Starchild looked at him confused. Maybe he had expected a warmer reception, and Kurt felt bad about it. This guy had saved his life, he deserved more gratitude then that. But still, he answered.

"I had to find something for her," Starchild said. "A tiara, a powerful artifact."

"Is it always jewelry?" Kurt asked. He wasn't trying to be rude, but a thought had formed in his mind. What if Blaine had come here from the fairy world... what if not all prices were material?

"It's something significant, usually," Starchild said. "But in the end, she has always been good to me."

"I'm glad," Kurt said, but his thoughts weren't completely with Starchild. Something was going on here, something he was missing...

He was almost relieved when he was called to another customer, although he promised to check in with Starchild before he left. He felt nervous, although he couldn't have said why that was. But when he turned back from the new customers, the table Starchild had been sitting at was empty.

Kurt felt a shiver run down his spine. He wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or relieved.

* * *

Even before his shift had ended, Kurt had sent a text to Santana. He needed to talk to someone, and now that he thought back on their conversation almost a month ago, the day she met Blaine, Kurt hoped that she might understand.

Santana had told him that they were in Central Park. He didn't even need to guess to know that Blaine was with her – he loved plants and every piece of green he could find, and he had found him there a lot, sometimes with Santana or Rachel, sometimes on his own, and sometimes Kurt came with him.

And as he expected, he found the both of them at the half-frozen pond. Other people would go to the pond to feed the ducks. With Blaine, Kurt had the impression he went there to _pet_ the ducks. And again, he was surrounded by several birds, and some kids, who were probably impressed by how docile the usually shy birds had become. Blaine was sitting there in the snow, as if he didn't even notice the cold, and was currently stroking through a goose's gray downs. Santana was standing a few yards away and pretended to be bored by the sight, but Kurt didn't fall for it. She looked up and as she saw him approach, she went over to him.

"Are you sure his name isn't Snow White?" she asked with a frown in her face. "You should get behind that, maybe he can get some of these critters to do our chores."

"I think he's a fairy," Kurt said. He had planned a more careful approach, but the words had just burst out of him.

Santana looked at him as if he was being particularly slow. "It took you this long to figure that out?"

Kurt glared at her. "Not like that, Santana. What I'm saying is he's an actual fairy tale fairy, like... I don't know, Tinkerbell."

Santana snorted. "Fairies are not like Tinkerbell, and of course he is one. Am I supposed to be surprised now? Just look at him!"

Kurt stared at her. He had hoped he would be able to talk to her about this, but he hadn't expected her to accept it this quickly.

Santana sighed. "Let's say he's not the first fairy I've known, so maybe it was more obvious to me."

And suddenly it clicked. "Brittany?" Kurt asked.

There was a rare, tender expression on Santana's face now, as she nodded. "She knew nothing about our world when she came here... she got better, though. She wasn't allowed to come here in the first place. Fairies are supposed to stay in their own world, and eventually, they get back everybody who escapes."

"I thought Brittany went to MIT," Kurt said.

"She didn't. Her deal was always limited to a few years, afterwards she went back into her own world. I'm not sure how things are for your boy, though. Maybe he got a deal that let him stay forever... or maybe he'll have to return eventually, too."

"There's something else," Kurt said. "There's another fairy, I talked to him, and he saved my life."

Santana stared at him. "Okay, I definitely need to hear more of that."

Kurt took a deep breath, and then he started to tell her the whole story. He told her about the crash, about the invisible boy who had saved him, who may or may not have visited him in his dreams beforehand, how he had been warm and safe and comforting, and how he couldn't get him out of his mind, even when he thought it had been nothing but a hallucination. Then he told her about how he had found Blaine, how at first he had hoped that it might be the same boy, but had given up on that theory when he found out the boy had no voice. He spoke about how he had started to believe that maybe Blaine had just lost his voice, but still might be the boy who saved him, how he had developed feelings for him. At last, he told her about Starchild, the boy who had actually saved him, and who had just dropped into his life.

"So now, I have no idea what to do," Kurt said.

"That's because you're an idiot," Santana said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Honestly, what is your problem anyway? So this guy saved your life, that's awesome. You still know nothing about him."

"You don't understand," Kurt said.

"Oh, I understand," Santana said and directed her gaze at Blaine, who was still completely immersed in his little bird show. "That boy there is just as crazy for you as you are for him, and that's what freaks you out. So you tried to explain your feelings away, to tell yourself that you just like him because he might be the guy who saved you, even though you weren't even sure that actually happened. You've put a nice label on it, because that way you can ignore how scared you are of actually falling in love with someone. Think about it, forget every idea you had about Blaine being the one who saved you, and just think about the last few weeks. Would you still have fallen in love with him?"

At that, Kurt closed his eyes and let his mind wander through the past few weeks. The more he thought of it, the more details came to his mind, tiny things he remembered, smiles and gestures, small moments, shy, stolen glances... But most of all he remembered warmth, and comfort and happiness. When he thought about the past few weeks, there really was only one answer.

"Yes."

He looked up to find Santana smiling at him. "Then what are you waiting for?" She turned away from him and walked a few steps closer to the pond. Blaine had seen him now, and with a last wave to the kids and birds, he went over to him.

There was nothing to wait for now, except for the right moment. Still too overwhelmed from his epiphany, Kurt stepped towards Blaine and pulled him into an embrace. The boy's arms went around him as if on instinct and Kurt let himself sink into the warmth of it. There was a small part of himself that still compared it to the one he had gotten the day of the crash from his mysterious savior, but really, he understood now that it didn't matter. Illusions and fairy tales aside, this, right here, was where he felt like home.

He took a step backwards and looked at Blaine, who met his eye with a hint of confusion, but still so much tenderness.

"Let's get home," Kurt said. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

In the end, that didn't work out at all. They had arrived at the loft just to find Rachel in the middle of a nervous breakdown. Really, they should have seen it coming. Between rehearsals, NYADA and the diner, she had been completely stressed out, and today, she had gotten a long-awaited call from Jesse, who apparently was so broke that he couldn't afford a plane ticket to come home over Christmas.

They had done their best to console her – well, Kurt and Blaine had, Santana had just remarked that she didn't see why Rachel made such a big deal out of Christmas anyway, and none of them would manage to be with their family, either. It hadn't been very helpful.

So this evening had mostly been spent with damage control and ended in another movie night full of romantic comedies. In the end, Rachel still hadn't been alright, but she had calmed down. Of course, it also meant that the right moment had passed. But Kurt figured, as he lay on the couch with Blaine leaning against him, the boy wasn't going anywhere.

And maybe this was even better. He would sleep a night over it, and maybe he'd get the chance to talk things over with Starchild, explain that he was very grateful and hoped for friendship, but there was someone else in his life already. And then, when all of this was behind him, he would tell Blaine.

He got his chance a few days later during his evening shift. It was already dark outside, although it seemed somehow softer under the cover of snow. Slowly, Kurt started to get into the Christmas spirit himself. With Rachel mostly calmed down, he was actually looking forward to a small celebration with just the four of them. He would miss seeing his family, but this was almost as good. Tonight was his last shift of the week, if everything went well, and it was delightfully quiet. Blaine was sitting at the piano, softly playing as if it was just for himself. Maybe tonight, there would be a good opportunity...

Kurt was pulled out of his thoughts, when somebody cleared his throat behind him. He turned around, and found himself opposite of Starchild.

"Good evening, Kurt," he said, grinning at him.

"Starchild," Kurt said, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just came to see you. I hoped it'd be a welcome sight?"

"You disappeared so quickly the last time," Kurt said.

"I had something to do," Starchild said, though there was an evasive note in his voice. "But now I am here, and I would love it if we could talk. I see you're not too busy right now?"

Kurt nodded. This was what he had wanted, an opportunity to talk to and thank his savior, but now he felt a bit uncomfortable.

"Maybe, when you're done, we might go somewhere else?" Starchild suggested and looked at him out of hooded eyes.

Kurt found himself shaking his head before he had even registered it. "Listen, I... I think there's a bit of an misunderstanding between us," he said. "Starchild, I'm very grateful for what you did for me, and I'd love to get to know you better, but... I'm not looking for a boyfriend. In fact, there _is_ somebody, but... yeah, that's it, basically."

Starchild's face had fallen during his speech, but now he almost looked wild. "No," he said, "no, that's not how this is supposed to go," he said. His voice got more agitated with every second. Again, Kurt got that feeling that something was wrong. And right now, as he focused on Starchild's face, he started to realize that something about the way he was talking was off... it was as if Kurt was watching a video and the audio track was lagging behind for only a fraction of a second, just enough to be disconcerting...

And then, things got a lot disconcerting. Without a warning, Starchild fisted his hand into Kurt's uniform and crashed their lips together. The next thing Kurt heard, was the breaking of glass. He pushed Starchild away, hoping against hope that it wasn't what he feared. But there, behind him, was Blaine, the shards of his broken glass in front of him on the floor, and an expression in his face that could only be described as heartbroken.

"No," Kurt said, "no, this isn't... I'm not... He's... _Blaine!_"

But the boy had turned around and hurried out of the diner.

"What have you done?!" Kurt yelled at Starchild. "I have to fix this!" Without paying even a shred of attention to Starchild, his colleagues or the customers, Kurt was running after Blaine, desperate to catch up with him. He had to be careful not to slip and fall on the sidewalks, but Blaine didn't seem to have the same problem. Now that Kurt paid attention, the fairy revelation in his mind, he saw that the other boy didn't even leave footprints. How on earth had he not noticed something like that earlier?

"Blaine, _wait_!" Kurt yelled after him. For a moment, Blaine stopped and turned to him. There was hesitation in his expression, but then he shook his head and kept walking. Though it was a clear dismissal, Kurt didn't even consider obeying it. Instead, he hurried up even more.

With his weird feeling for nature, it shouldn't have surprised Kurt that Blaine was seeking refuge at a park. He didn't remember this particular one, but he hoped Blaine would finally stop, just to give him an opportunity to talk.

For a second, Kurt didn't pay attention, and suddenly, his feet were slipping. With a yelp, he fell onto the snow covered way. He cursed. He had to catch up with Blaine, he couldn't afford this... but then, Blaine was walking towards him, and a moment later the boy was kneeling beside him, a look of concern in his eyes. He looked Kurt once over, as if to make sure he was alright, before he helped him up.

"Thank you," Kurt said.

For a second, Blaine's hands stayed on him, warm and reassuring, but then the boy turned away once more. This time, Kurt wouldn't let him go. He grabbed the boy's arms and put a hand onto his cheek to make Blaine look at him.

"Please don't be upset," Kurt said, "I didn't want him to kiss me. He just did. Some time ago, he saved my life, and now he found me. And I'm grateful, but that's all. I don't have any feelings for him, Blaine."

The boy wasn't trying to get away anymore. He just looked at Kurt with a forlorn expression. Kurt hated it when he looked upset, hated it even more that he had taken part in putting that expression on his face. But he was done with waiting for some kind of right moment. This time, he would make it right.

"I do, however," he continued, "have feelings for you."

Immediately, Kurt saw Blaine's eyes light up with hope. There was a moist shimmer in his eyes, and a sort of incredulous quality. Kurt let his left hand fall to take Blaine's hand, while he cupped the boy's cheek gently.

"I'm in love with you," he said.

For a moment, Blaine stared at him as if in awe, then slowly, a smile spread on his face. He raised a hand to Kurt's face, and finally, they got closer. Kurt felt his eyes drawn to Blaine's lips, and then, he allowed the same to happen to the rest of him.

"What's going on here?"

Kurt swore again as he turned at the sound of Starchild's voice. "If you don't mind, we were having a moment," he said, although it came out as more of a hiss.

Blaine froze, and then he took a step forward. Kurt had only a moment to catch the expression of outrage on Blaine's face, then the boy was standing in front of him. Starchild, too, froze, when he looked at Blaine, and suddenly, he was down on one knee.

"I'm sorry, I... I didn't know!", he said and looked up quickly, as if to make sure it was allowed. "They said you died! The King and Queen, they said you were lost."

Blaine slowly, deliberately shook his head.

"Does anybody mind telling me, what is going on here?" Kurt asked. "Do you know each other?"

"He's one of our princes," Starchild said, "and I thought he was dead, that's why I accepted the voice when the Lady Terri offered it, I swear, I didn't know."

"Voice?"

But Starchild ignored him. He took the amulet he was wearing and pulled it over his head. "I struck a bargain with the Lady Terri," he said, and suddenly, his voice sounded completely different. "She said if I manage to get True Love's Kiss from you, I would be allowed to stay in this world for as long as I wanted. She gave me this. But I swear," he said, looking at Blaine again, "I didn't know it was stolen from you." He held the egg-shaped object out in his open palm. "I'm sorry, Highness. Please, take this."

Slowly, as if still amazed, Blaine stepped closer. Kurt was still trying to process what had happened. So, apparently this Terri had struck a bargain with Blaine as well, and taken his voice as the price. But why had she then sent someone else to interfere? And wait, if that was Blaine's voice...

"You saved me!"

Blaine turned around and looked at him.

"That plane crash, it _was _you who saved me!"

Blaine looked at him in confusion, then nodded. He gave Kurt one more smile, before he turned back to Starchild and the amulet in his hand. He reached out for it...

...and suddenly, he was pulled away. Kurt's head shot around to see what had taken hold of him. Beneath a leafless tree, there was a woman. She was tall, with long, blonde hair surrounding her head like a corona. She was wearing a light blue dress that looked like ice, and her expression was so cold that Kurt took a step back. But the really frightening thing about here where the dark green vines that sprang from her left arm, one of which was holding Blaine, and another one had ripped the amulet right out of Starchild's hands.

"Is _this _how you repay me for my generosity?" the women asked. "This was _not_ part of your deal, Starchild! And now, after everything I've done for you, you work against me?!"

Blaine struggled against the vines holding him, but the woman pulled them tighter and he stopped.

"Let him go!" Kurt wasn't even afraid anymore at this point.

"Quiet, human!" The woman focused on him now. "This foolish boy has made a deal with me. He had time from full moon until full moon to receive true love's kiss. The time has passed, but he didn't succeed. He's mine now, for eternity."

"Lady Terri, please think about this," Starchild said. "The royal family-"

"The royal family always stands by their word, don't they?" Terri said. There was a gleaming in her eyes that made Kurt freeze. "They make a promise, they keep it. The proclaim banishment, and it is forever. Fine then, let's see how much they love their deals when one of their own falls victim to his word. I will have what is rightfully mine."

"But the night isn't over! It's not even the same time he arrived here," Kurt protested. "He still has time!"

"The time is over when I say it is over," Terri said. "And I am done with waiting. Don't complain, human, you had more than enough time to try, even before I sent my agent."

It felt like a slap to Kurt, but yes, she was right. He could have prevented this – if only he had known there was something to be prevented.

"Now say goodbye to your prince, it is time for him to go home," Terri said. The smile on her face was the coldest thing Kurt had ever seen.

Never.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Kurt was running towards Terri, and if he had to knock her over, he wouldn't let her take Blaine away. He heard Starchild scream at him, saw Blaine struggle...

And then there was more noise than Kurt had ever heard in New York. It was the flapping of wings, the screeches of birds. Kurt threw himself on the ground, and when he looked up he could see birds flying at Terri, hacking against her face, at the vines and wherever they could get a hit in. There were ducks and geese, songbirds and crows, and they were all flying in attack against Terri.

Incredulous, Kurt looked at Blaine, who for a moment stared at the birds in awe, before he started his struggles again, and this time with the distraction, he managed to break free from Terri's vines. He ripped the amulet away and ran. Kurt had just gotten to his feet when Blaine was with him and pulled him away from the birds and from Terri and her vines.

The egg-shaped amulet was held tightly in Blaine's hand, and then, with an intent look at Kurt, he threw it to the ground with all his might.

Like an egg, it broke, but what came out of it was green tinted light, gleaming, that formed a spiral with Blaine in its center, and then...

"Kurt!"

It was his voice, that voice that had sung to him, calmed him down, but most importantly, it was Blaine's voice.

"I love you," Kurt said, and a second later, Blaine was in his arms.

"NO!"

They both turned at the exclamation. Terri threw her arms out, and the vines fell from her hand. At the same time, a shock wave seemed to emanate from her and around her, the birds fell to the ground, screeching.

"I will _not_ be defeated by a flock of birds, a child and a human!" Terri screamed. "You will not get away with this! You-"

Suddenly, there was no sound coming from her, although Kurt could still see her talking. But behind her, something that looked like a rift had opened, with more green light pouring out, and through it stepped a man. He was wearing a light, silver armor and a yellow coat was falling over his back. His blue eyes stayed on Terri for a moment, before he looked at the both of them, and a sad smile appeared on his face.

"It's good to see you, brother."

"Cooper," Blaine whispered. "How did you find me?"

"I went after Terri," the man explained. His voice sounded echoing, and his face hardly showed expression. "She went after a member of the royal family, you know that we can't allow that. She will leave." He raised his hand, and in the next moment, Terri was gone. "She will be imprisoned in the castle's dungeon forever, or until she can prove her use to us. Now you-" He turned to Starchild.

"I didn't know, your Highness!" he said. "Please, I didn't mean to harm your family."

"I'm aware. You are forgiven," Cooper said, "but you will leave too." With another gesture, Starchild had disappeared. "And you, brother, you will come home with me as well."

"What?" Blaine stepped away from Kurt. "No! I don't want to go back!"

"It's what you get for the deal you made," Cooper said. "You have broken our rules, brother. Be grateful that our father even allows you to return to the castle."

"Cooper, please..." Blaine said. "Don't do this to me."

"You're a son of the royal family, Blaine," Cooper said, and now he sounded just tired. "You know our duties."

"You didn't want them, either," Blaine said. "You wanted to be free once, too!"

Cooper tilted his head. "I did," he said. "But that chance has passed, and I am not the child I once was."

"But I still have that chance!" Blaine said. "I don't want to go back. I want to stay here, with Kurt. I love him, Cooper!"

"Love is a strong word, brother," Cooper said. He then looked at Kurt as if in contemplation. "And you?"

"I love him, too," Kurt said. His hand found Blaine's immediately. "And I want him to stay."

Cooper looked at them for a long moment, and then he smiled at them.

"I'm afraid that I can't help you. My brother made a deal with the witch Terri. The deal was that if he succeeded, he could stay in your world, but if he failed, he would be hers for eternity. By the end of this night, the time is over, and he will be taken to our world, to stay there forever."

"But you said you would imprison her," Kurt said.

"That is correct," Cooper said, "he won't be her slave, since she will be imprisoned and all powers will be taken from her. But he will be brought to her castle." He looked at Blaine, and Kurt saw a longing on his face, a look of pity, as if he missed they boy standing there, and maybe from what Kurt had heard, the boy he had once been himself. "I will find you there, and I will bring you home. You won't be bound to Terri, but you will be bound to our realm."

"Cooper, please..."

"It's not my choice at this point, little brother," Cooper said. "It all comes down to the deal you made. It's exactly what you agreed to."

Kurt looked from Blaine, and the despair in his face, to Cooper. When he looked at Cooper, and kept in mind that he was Blaine's brother, something dawned on him. Cooper seemed to be on their side, and he kept emphasizing the deal Blaine made... and suddenly, Kurt understood.

"Blaine," he said, and squeezed the boy's hand.

Blaine looked at him, desperate and worried. Kurt squeezed the hand he was holding,

"Do you really want to stay with me?" he asked. "Please, I need you to think about this. Your family is in the fairy world, it's where you grew up, and I know this world is confusing to you. I just need to know you're sure."

Blaine looked at him, with such an intense look that Kurt felt himself shudder.

"Kurt...", he whispered. "I'd always want to be with you. Nothing in the fairy world comes even close. You don't remember, but we talked so much in your dreams, and these past few weeks living with you... I couldn't stand anything else, Kurt. You're the one I love. Besides," he looked to his brother now, "I don't want to be a part of the royal family anymore. Our parents, they don't care about us as human parents would. To them, we're just spares for their crown prince. Really, if you had known Cooper before he had become the Crown prince...? They took his soul, Kurt. They made him into a tool of their will, and I don't want that. I want to be myself. This world is where I want to live, and you are the person I want to live with. So if there is a way to stay with you, I will take it."

Kurt had felt himself shudder during the speech. "I think I have a way," he whispered. "Your deal... the thing you needed to succeed in was true love's kiss, wasn't it?"

Blaine nodded.

A smile appeared on Kurt's face. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," came Blaine's answer.

It was all he needed to hear.

He let go of Blaine's hand and put his arms around the boy. He looked into his eyes one more time to make sure it was okay, then he pulled Blaine towards him, and finally, he put his lips onto Blaine's.

In his arms, the boy stiffened, but then his arms went around Kurt and pulled him as close as possible. Their lips started to move against one another, and Kurt gasped for air. It wasn't his first kiss, but it was the first that felt... meaningful. As their lips moved together, Kurt caught himself trying to pull Blaine even further than before, until he buried one hand in the boy's curls, and just held him close. He felt Blaine's tongue against his mouth, and he opened up, invited him in. They molded together. It felt just as Kurt had always dreamed a kiss should feel.

Just... perfect.

After what felt like an eternity, Kurt pulled back and looked into Blaine's eyes. They still had that golden color with the occasional green speck, but the glow he had seen before was gone.

Blaine gasped for breath as Kurt let go of him. He stared at him for a long moment, before he looked at Cooper. There was a small, almost secretive smile on the man's face.

"Oh dear," he said, with an almost whimsical quality to his voice. "Look at that..."

"I succeeded," Blaine said. His voice was rough, and with one arm he pulled Kurt even closer. "True love's kiss!"

"And your prize is to stay in this world, as long as you wish to," Cooper said. "Our father won't be happy, but that is the deal you made."

Blaine turned to his brother. "Cooper..." he said, and Kurt could hear his heart breaking in this single word.

Cooper stepped closer, slowly, but deliberately, until he stood right in front of you. "I never wanted to become like this," he said, "and it broke my heart to expect it from you. But now, it will never happen. I'm glad."

He turned to Kurt. "Promise me to take good care of him," he said.

"Always," Kurt said. It felt like a promise, something huge, but still something he was willing to give. Blaine was so warm, and real in his arms. right now, it was all he ever could have wanted.

"I have to leave now," Cooper said. He stepped even closer, and then he pulled Blaine away from Kurt and into his own arms. "Be free, little brother," he said, "and live your dream."

The light from the rift got brighter, until Kurt had to close his eyes, but it didn't matter, because Blaine was now holding him, so tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto life itself.

When Kurt opened his eyes again, they were alone in the park. Blaine was still standing in his arms, though, and for now, that was all he could ask for.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked.

There was a soft nod. "I think so. Are you?"

Kurt let his head rest on Blaine's shoulders. "You're here," he said, "so yes, I think I am." He stepped back now and cupped Blaine's cheek. "But... your family, aren't you going to miss them?"

Blaine sighed. "They're not what you think of when you hear family. My parents, they're... cold. Our father and his Queen have ruled the Fae for centuries. Even the royal children are just considered in terms on how useful they are for the realm. Eventually, after Cooper, I would have been the crown prince... You should have seen Cooper before all this happened. It's not even a comparison, he was wonderful, but then he had to succeed the previous crown princes. And now he's a shell, Kurt. I would have run away sooner or later, anyway. But I'm glad I did it for you."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered. He pulled the boy close and allowed himself to cradle the boy's face in his hands. "I am so sorry."

"Thank you," Blaine whispered. "But it's okay. I'm just glad to be here with you."

"Me too," Kurt said. "God, this... this is real, all of this just happened?"

Blaine nodded, a smile on his face. "It was all real. You... I can't believe you attacked an evil witch for me."

"I tried," Kurt said, "honestly, I was just so scared that she would hurt you..."

"It's over," Blaine said. "None of them can hurt us anymore. I'm... gods, Kurt, I'm so glad, so grateful you fought for me, I don't even-"

"Hush, it's alright," Kurt whispered, and a moment later, their lips were joined again. It still felt just as right as their first kiss had been. Kurt sighed into the kiss before he pulled away, only to have Blaine to pull him in once more.

It was an almost perfect moment for them, but Kurt had an idea on how to improve even on that.

"Come home with me," he whispered.

With a sigh, Blaine let his forehead rest against Kurt's. Only one word came over his lips.

"Okay."

* * *

"_Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. There is no reason to panic, we are experiencing minor technical difficulties. Our arrival in Columbus might be delayed by a few minutes. Please stay calm, the situation is under control."_

"_I think I can smell smoke. Can you smell smoke?"_

_"We're crashing!"_

"_This is not happening."_

"Kurt?"

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some difficulties in the landing, please use the oxygen masks coming down in front of you right about-"_

_A screeching sound, and the transmission stops. They're losing height, fast, and it feels like they're falling into a spiral. _

"Kurt, come on..."

_There's an orange shine at the edge of Kurt's vision, to his right, where the little window is. He knows the shine has to come from the engines, he can almost imagine the flames bursting from them, but he can't bring himself to look at it. Maybe, if he doesn't look, it will magically disappear?_

_His hands are shaking, and he knows more than feels that there are tears on his cheeks. There's another screech, even louder than the previous ones, and then..._

"I think that's enough, don't you?"

Slowly, Kurt felt the dream slipping away from him. What stayed was the voice in his ear.

"Are you awake now?"

Kurt opened his yes to find Blaine looking at him. There was no plane, no fire and no panic, he was safe in his bed. Through the window the slightest brightness was showing. Christmas day was dawning, and he was tucked in with his boyfriend from another world, who was watching him with a concerned look in his face.

"You've been restless," Blaine said softly, "that dream... that wasn't the first time you had it, was it?"

Kurt sat up and rubbed his eyes. "It's fine," he said, "it's not that often anymore. It's gotten better since..." He thought about it for a moment, and a smile formed on his lips as he realized. "It's gotten better since you came here."

Blaine smiled up at him, but still, Kurt could see the hint of a frown in his face. "I wish I had known before," Blaine said, "before I came here, or right after the crash. Maybe I could have taken it away. But we can't keep our powers once we fully cross..."

"Don't even think about that," Kurt said. "I don't need anything taken away from me." With a soft smile, he let his hand run through the boy's hair, or at least tried to, until it got tangled in the curls. "I'm actually quite happy with the things I have."

"Me too," Blaine said. "It's still early, come lie back down."

Kurt hesitated. Usually, he would get up especially early on Christmas, just to make sure everything was ready for the day, to start the first preparations for the meal later and to get a first look on the gifts. Then again, this year they would have a quiet celebration, just the four of them, and there wasn't much to prepare. Instead, he could spend a few more hours under the warm covers in the embrace of the boy he loved. Maybe it was time to start a new Christmas tradition.

"Alright," Kurt said and sank back under the covers. "We have time now, don't we?"

"All the time," Blaine said, "as long as we want." He reached out and pulled Kurt closer, who returned the embrace readily.

Maybe it shouldn't have felt so peaceful, spending Christmas away from his family for the first time, but right now, it was all Kurt could have asked for. He felt warm and safe, with that strange boy in his arms, humming a melody Kurt thought he remembered...

"Sing?" he said against Blaine's curls.

He could feel the smile and a huff of breath against his skin, and then he heard the soft, familiar notes.

_Now we can walk,  
Now we can run,  
Now we can stay all day in the sun  
Just you and me,  
And I can be  
Part of your world_


End file.
